"I understand that children tend to grow up unpredictably—but even then, there has to be a limit, right?"
The words escaped Krista Hell's lips with a sigh, tinged in quiet disbelief.
She walked slowly, almost absently, down the narrow marble hallway of their small castle-like home.
Her steps echoed softly against the finely polished floor, but her mind was far louder—buzzing with confusion, concern, and a growing pressure behind her temple that refused to subside.
An unrelenting headache pulsed behind her eyes.
It wasn't the kind born from fatigue or stress.
No—this one was a mother's headache.
The kind that came from watching your child walk paths that made no sense no matter how much you thought you understood them.
Krista, the Countess of Hell County, a woman known for her composure and grace in noble society, found herself pacing in slow, unsettled circles—her thoughts looping with each step, as if somehow walking them out would bring clarity.
